The Weight of Choosing

No one really prepares you for what it means to grow up. They talk about responsibilities, careers, and making smart choices. But they don’t tell you that, at some point, you’ll realize you’re all you have. No one is coming to save you. No one will catch you when you fall. Life doesn’t pause just because you’re not ready. Reality will hit you hard, forcing you to wake up and understand that if you don’t take control, life will take control of you.

Along the way, you’ll start losing people. Some leave quietly, others leave with chaos, and some just drift so far that when you look back, you barely recognize who they used to be. And somewhere in all of that, you stop fighting it. You stop clinging. You stop believing that everyone who walks into your life is meant to stay. Because the truth is, not everyone is supposed to walk the entire journey with you. And that’s okay.

I don’t care who I lose anymore, as long as I don’t lose myself. I used to believe that holding on was the right thing to do—that sacrificing, staying silent, and bending for the sake of others was a form of love. But now, looking back, I see how many times I let myself be disrespected, how often I cared more about their feelings than my own. How many times I swallowed my pain just to keep the peace. But what about the war inside me?

Never again.

I will not shrink myself to make others comfortable. I will not allow my kindness to be an invitation for people to take more than I have to give. I will not apologize for choosing myself when, for so long, I was the one left behind. If losing people is the price of keeping myself, then so be it. Because the hardest part of adulting isn’t letting go—it’s realizing you were never meant to hold on that tightly in the first place.